


Truth In Journalism

by Trista_zevkia



Series: Platonic [20]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics), World's Finest (Comics)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, F/M, Face-Fucking, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Multi, Sex Toys, Sex in a Car, Wall Sex, off screen threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:29:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark had no problem with Lois throwing him over for better stories, or Lex trying to kill Superman 'for the world's own good'. But why hadn't he ever made a plan for what to do when <i>Brucie </i>was put in charge of the body?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth In Journalism

**Author's Note:**

> I made up the sex toy, so I hereby claim patent on it, and name it "The SuperBruce" ;)

“People have complained about the direction of LexCo, but my shareholders have not been disappointed. You will find our allocation of resources to be a wise decision, the next time extraterrestrial beings arrive. They may come with rage and a need to destroy, or they may come in the guise of a hero, here to save us from the worst aspects of ourselves.”

Clark rolled his eyes behind his ‘Lex press statement sunglasses’, items he only wore to hide that he had to roll his eyes at Lex and his badly hidden paranoia about Superman. Bruce had suggested a bingo card of Lex phrases, and if he got bingo he was then allowed to burn a LexCo building down. Wally suggested using his heat vision to melt Lex’s pants button, so if he learned to hurry up with the anti-Superman spiel he wouldn’t be flashing the crowd. Both were such tempting suggestions that Clark had to almost force himself to use his usual technique; just try and not listen to Lex talk. 

But today, Lex stopped suddenly, as if he’d learned his lesson without getting pantsed or dealing with arson investigations. He stopped talking, blinked a few times, and picked up his speech about the healthy growth of LexCo stock in a slowly recovering economy. Clark was forced to check his memory to make sure that he hadn’t blanked out most of Lex’s speech. He hadn’t, and Lex finished up about fifteen minutes early since he wasn’t badmouthing Superman or trying to hide it. 

“Lois, did that seem odd to you?” Clark asked as he followed her out of the lobby of LexCo. 

“You mean that every time he started to throw shade at Superman, he stopped and went on with what we are actually here for?” Lois answered, confirming that Clark wasn’t making that up or missing time. “I am going to hate to find out the reason for that, but I still am. You can do the piece about the business stuff he was spouting.” 

“Gee, thanks Lois.” Clark carefully injected enough enthusiasm in his voice to counteract the natural sarcasm of the words. He needn’t have bothered, as Lois was already lost in her head, deciding on the perfect source to start bothering. She usually pretended to try for a little more civility, but she’d shut Clark out for far less juicy stories. 

Clark just went with it, namely by going to _The Daily Planet_ and starting his own investigation, while tracking Lois with his Superman skills. He’d just sat at his desk when Mr. Mxyzptlk popped into existence, sitting on his desk. As people went on their business around him, Clark couldn’t tell if Mr. Mxyzptlk had made them both invisible just his extradimensional self. Clark put his mobile to his ear, just so he wouldn’t look like he was talking to himself. 

“Hello, Mxy, what can I do for you today?” 

“Superman, noticed anything interesting in the world today?” Mxyzptlk was almost bouncing where he floated, clearly excited about something. 

“I’ve noticed a few people acting strange, but nothing too weird.” Clark admitted, hoping to get more information out of the imp. 

“I’ve made you your own personal paradise, and you didn’t notice?” Mxyzptlk looked at him with big eyes, almost hurt. 

“Well, Lex doesn’t seem to want to kill me, and that’s nice.” Clark offered, not sure why he was placating the annoying imp. “It’s not just him?” 

“I thought someone so protective of truth would have noticed right away.” 

Clark knew he was frowning; Lex had always been truthful about thinking Superman was a threat. 

“I was tired of seeing you at a disadvantage, held back because the public didn’t get to know people like you do. Some people still think Lex is a good guy, not a conniving jerk who routinely tries to destroy you. And how often does Lois stick you with the boring story so she can go for the Pulitzer?” 

“Lois ditched me for a story today, after Lex stopped spouting about what a threat Superman is.” 

“Exactly! Lex, Lois, and everyone close to you is now exactly who they seem to be in the media. Lex is the perfect businessman, Lois the reporter who will stop at nothing, and so on, across the world.” 

Mr. Mxyzptlk was excited, sure he’d done something good, to make life easier for Superman. Clark felt like all his internal organs had just walked out of his body, leaving him with a squishy hollowness. “Lois might come across as harsh but that’s only because she seeks the truth instead of worrying about her emotional life. Lex needs the money and lack of prosecution that comes with being a successful business man. I know that about them, and that’s enough for me; it doesn’t matter to me what the public thinks of them. Most of Lex’s tech advances come from his efforts to defeat me, though the practical applications have helped a great deal of people. That new metal he came up with for his Luthor Suit makes prosthetic limbs cheaper and lighter. He also employs thousands of people.” 

Mxyzptlk was frowning, clearly not believing the calm façade Clark was working so hard to maintain. Clark knew that façade would fall away if he asked about the acquaintance most often in the news. 

“I know you meant well, and I really appreciate the sentiment, but I need you to correct this, please.” Clark tried for a ‘sorry but hurry’ smile. 

Mr. Mxyzptlk stared at him, eyes narrowed in anger. “This is what I get for being nice, freeing you up to deal with some new problems. I’m going back to the Fifth Dimension, and leaving you with my gift. You’ll come to appreciate it.” 

A blip of magic and Mxyzptlk was gone. Lex and Lois would be fine; they could put any weird behavior down to an off day. But once he was sure Mxyzptlk was gone, Clark was on his feet, jogging up the stairs to the roof. He had to get to Bruce and contain him, before his secrets were forced from him. He kept his office suit on, not knowing what he’d find Bruce doing, and sped to Gotham as fast as he could without ripping the fabric. This also let him locate Bruce’s heartbeat, and hone in on it. It was going pretty fast, but not ‘death threat’ fast, and started to slow before Clark landed. 

Naturally, Bruce had to choose today to not be in his office or asleep in the manor. Oh, goody, Clark thought as he landed in the alley beside Bruce’s heartbeat; he’s in a very public place. Clark was so busy wondering if sarcasm was the first stage of panic that he went into the building without paying much attention to the name of the place. 

Comfortable looking chairs lined the walls, while uncomfortably large versions of the pegs that held up golf balls lined the bar. The ceiling was an aquarium. Ultra-modern design was worked into the corners and colors, and Clark felt he’d just walked into a sci-fi game show. 

People in business suits worked at laptops and tablets, and not all of them had drinks or food. They all had different colored tubes coming from their noses, and Clark started looking for other signs of alien invasion or mind control, when he registered the name plastered everywhere. _The O Bar_. The sophomoric humor suggested orgasms but it actually referenced oxygen. This was an oxygen bar where city workers paid good money to breathe. All those derogatory things he’d heard about city slickers while being raised on a farm came back to him. 

Fortunately, a familiar figure stepped out of the hallway under the bathroom arrow. Bruce was a very good distraction, not the least because of the way he filled out any suit. Clark took a step in his direction, only to find a small crowd beat him to it. Clark scooted closer, trying to catch Bruce’s eye so they could make a subtle escape. This also meant Clark was the only one to notice two more people came out of the bathroom hallway. 

They were presentable, the man and woman both having made an effort to straighten up their business casual attire. Her makeup was fine, and his hair was freshly combed, but there was something about the way they both carefully settled into the plush chairs, the slowness of their movements. Honestly, they looked as fucked out as anybody Clark had ever seen. Once seated, they watched Bruce with dazed expressions, the man falling asleep first. 

Bruce had been turned into who the world thought he was, nipped down here and had a threesome in the bathroom while Clark casually went about his day. He needed to get Brucie out of here, now, before he did something with the speculative look he was giving the small crowd around him. Wait, Batman did speculative, not Brucie. Had Mxyzptlk made it so all of Bruce was focused on something besides crime, mainly sex? Clark was panicking again before he’d even finished that thought. Clark ran over to Bruce and shoved his way in front of the crowd, gently but with Superman strength backing up his pushing. 

Bruce turned and undressed Clark, tested the firmness of his ass, and measured his cock length in a half-a-second heated-as-fuck look. “I do know you, and we have had sex before.” 

“Right, it was so good you made a date with me, for now, right now.” Clark was absolutely making this up as he went along, knowing he was going to get mocked for a week about this. Why didn’t Batman have plans in place for what to do if Brucie was put in charge of the body? 

“Well, Ken doll, there is something about you my body remembers, but on the other had …” Brucie waved his other hand and then snaked it out to grab the nearest ass. 

How could Clark argue with that? More ass? “The women are waiting for us in your bedroom. They might be starting without us.” 

“Why was this appointment of ours not in my calendar then?” Brucie frowned, as if reaching for a thought, his eyes never leaving Clark until he blinked. “What ladies are in my room?” 

Even as Clark reached for the names he knew they had in common, he knew what hell he’d catch if they ever heard about this. “Diana, she always carries that rope with her. Dinah, you like her, she’s a screamer. Lois, oral fixation. Shiera, she always wears that mask.” Clark stopped, because his next thought was Barbara, and she might have a still living father but Batman had taken Oracle under his wings and that was some mental secret identity incest that Clark couldn’t process. 

Bruce must have taken Clark’s ‘does not compute’ silence for finishing the list, as he stepped up into Clark’s personal space. “And what do you bring to the bed, Ken?” 

There was so much heat in that one simple question that Clark thought about using his ice breath to cool himself down. “Um, you always called me solar powered, because I can go all day.” 

It was cheesy as all get out, and came out as more of a question than a statement, but Brucie bought it. “Oh, yeah, I can’t miss out on that.” 

Without a glance at his disappointed crowd, Brucie walked out of the bar, hand on Clark’s elbow, like he’d try and fly away. Bruce didn’t even pay, making Clark wonder if Bruce had come here for anything besides the two people drooling over their laptops and the disappointed runner-ups. Bruce easily steered him through a few alleys, until they were at W.E. and going into the underground garage. As Bruce got behind the driver seat, he turned to flash a smile at Clark. 

“My bed. The penthouse or the manor?” 

It took Clark an embarrassing long time to figure out what Bruce was asking, and to decide the best place to have this orgy. “The manor.” 

“Long ride. Blow job as I drive?” 

Clark sputtered, choking on nothing as he fought back the twitch in his dick. That was interesting, as he could be around Brucie for days and not get aroused. It was the real aspects of Bruce’s personality that did it for Clark. Putting it down to the blatant request, Clark managed to sputter out an answer. 

“Not while driving, that is so unsafe, and in Gotham traffic? No, never, you’ll kill everybody.” Well, Clark would be fine, but nobody else would be safe. 

“Blow job to tide me over until we get to the Manor?” Brucie asked with a knowing half-grin. “If you’ve got the stamina you say I say you do, you won’t mind waiting to receive yours.” 

It was a stupid, childish dare given in a confusing way, and Clark found himself leaning across the seat, not looking at Bruce’s smug face. Bruce opened his pants and eased out his half hard cock for Clark, and Clark licked his lips. He paused, mouth just over Bruce’s less thoughtful head, when he realized Bruce was reaching for the console. 

“You’re not driving while I do this.” Clark ordered. 

“Relax baby, just setting the mood.” 

Confused, Clark looked up to see the windows were darkening, hiding what they were doing from the rest of the world. Which was probably something Bruce had in case he needed to be Batman in a hurry, or for other Bat-purposes, and bizarrely, Clark felt a whole lot better about sucking Brucie off. Technically, Clark knew the best thing to do would be to not do this, and get Bruce to containment. But, since he was down here, softly stroking full hardness into Bruce’s cock, he should amend that plan to getting Bruce to blow his load as quickly as possible. With that in mind, Clark opened his jaw and took all of it into his mouth, deep-throating Bruce in one move. 

“Oh, we have done this before.” Bruce murmured, hand gently patting Clark’s head. 

The petting his head thing irked Clark, as he was not Bruce’s lap dog, but this wasn’t Bruce. Clark swallowed his irritation, and the head of Bruce’s cock. 

“That’s it, now add the only kind of hummer that’s good for the environment.” 

Clark paused, taking that in for a second. Brucie of the papers did champion environmental causes, though most of his charity work went to improve human lives. But, in context, it was kind of bizarre and yet Bruce, so the only thing Clark could do was laugh. 

Bruce purred into it, rolling his hips up, a move sexy enough that Clark’s laugh turned into a moan. From there, Clark hummed _Poison Ivy_ so he could at least say he tried to get through to Bruce without resorting to sex. 

“Off, off!” Bruce commanded, just about the end of the second run-through of the song. 

Clark popped off, to watch Bruce give two perfunctory stokes and come into a klenex. The tissue was folded up and placed in his coat pocket, as if Bruce didn’t want his genetic material to get into anybody’s hands. While Bruce came down from his orgasm, Clark took a look to confirm there were two condoms and a dental dam already in that suit coat pocket. 

Clark sat in his seat and watched Bruce. Not to quote Spock, but this was really fascinating, watching this combination of Bruce’s skills all focused on one goal. Like Batman practiced and timed his moves until he could plan to the second, apparently Bruce had worked out the timing of an orgasm to know when to get the other to back off. Did he have secret ninja techniques for delaying orgasm, or an encyclopedic knowledge of tantric sex? Would the Batcave computers be filled with diagrams for his epic work, the _Karma Sutra of Orgies_? 

“Yeah, that should hold me until we get to the Manor.” Bruce interrupted his thoughts to say. With a wink, Bruce started the car and pulled out. “If this wasn’t a stick transmission, I’d play with your stick.” 

Resolutely, Clark crossed his legs. No one was playing with his erection while the car was moving. Instead, he pulled out his phone and sent a text. 

_On way to Manor. Bruce needs to sleep. Will explain later. Clark_

**Yes, you will explain. I will leave something where you can find it, Master Kent.**

Clark looked up from texting Alfred just in time to see Bruce writing down the phone number of a woman in car at the redlight beside them. Most people looked away from the road to text and got in wrecks, but Clark looked away and Bruce got a date. Clark sighed, and prayed they’d only get green lights until they got out of the city. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

They didn’t encounter Alfred on their way up the stairs inside the Manor, which Clark was glad of. Bruce looked around, as if he was expecting Alfred, but every time he caught sight of Clark, he seemed to remember sex, and moved on upstairs. Bruce entered his room like he was the star attraction of the orgy; loud and with his arms triumphantly raised. His arms slowly came down to rest on his hips, hands curled into fists. Clark closed the door behind them and did a quick scan of the room, finding the knockout drugs taped up behind the mirror. 

“Well, I guess they started and finished without us.” Bruce commented, now turned to look at Clark. He was sporting one of those expressions the JL was lucky that Batman hid under a mask. “Or maybe, you lied to get me here, desperate for me. If that’s the case, I hope you’re ready to take the proper punishment.” 

It wasn’t really a question, and Clark nodded even as he did another x-ray scan of the room, looking for hidden lead boxes. “Yeah, I really wanted a repeat performance, couldn’t stand letting you at those other people.” 

“Burma,” Bruce replied as he turned toward the en suite bathroom. 

“What?” 

“Burma, it’s a texting thing. Means be undressed and ready my A-something, my asshole, my acquaintance?” 

“My angel,” Clark corrected, surprised he remember this acronym he’d never used. 

“Thanks, you’re sweet.” Bruce offered with a wink before closing the bathroom door behind him. 

And with that, Clark remembered that Brucie was seen by the ‘less entranced with his antics’ media as being vainglorious. If they only knew what Bruce’s real accomplishments were. Though, Brucie hadn’t given any sign of knowing Clark’s accomplishments as Superman, so maybe he didn’t remember, since the Brucie in the papers wouldn’t know such a thing? Which meant he didn’t want Bruce finding the super suit while he attempted to knock him unconscious. 

Quickly, Clark undressed, but was prevented from redressing in even his boxers by Bruce returning to the room. Maybe Bruce had timed that as well, or Clark secretly wanted more of what Brucie was offering. No, he was here to knock Bruce out, keep him safe until he’d gotten Mr. Mxyzptlk to fix this. It would be morally dubious to have sex with Bruce when he was incapable of giving consent. Bruce seemed into it, had come here willingly enough with only the promise of sex, and they’d had sex before, so he could be forgiven for not finding another way to sedate Bruce. Really, Clark wasn’t expecting to have sex with Bruce at this time. 

Except his very adult, logical Kryptonian brain had stopped working when Bruce stepped out of the bathroom. He wore a long sleeve black silk pajama top and nothing else. 

“I’m glad you can follow orders, my angel.” Bruce said, and then stalked across the room to prey on Clark. 

Every cell in Clark’s body tried to flee and run to the predator at the same time. This man was dangerous, his body knew that, but everything he was about to do would feel damn good. The pressure of the doorknob in his spine was the only indication Clark had that he’d moved backwards at some point, but he couldn’t move away as Bruce was just in front of him, not touching. He wanted to touch Bruce, close the distance between them, but Bruce’s eyes held him pinned like a butterfly in a case. 

“Put your hands over your head.” Bruce commanded and Clark complied as quickly as he would to an order from Batman in a fight. 

That little action of muscle memory helped him realize what was going on. This was all of Batman’s determination, knowledge, and awareness focused in on bringing pleasure to one subject; Clark. All that intensity had Clark dripping pre-cum into the lush carpet. 

Bruce reached up to adjust Clark’s hands where he wanted them, wrists overlapping like they’d been tied. “You are going to leave your hands right where they are. If they stay there, you’ll get to fuck me. If you move them, I’ll fuck you.” 

They were both excellent possibilities and Clark was trying to determine which he wanted most, if the consent issue would be resolved by letting Bruce fuck him, when Bruce spoke again. 

“If you ejaculate during the challenge, we never have sex again. Now, you’re going to face fuck me to decide who fucks who.” 

Clark made a noise he’d never heard before and Bruce was kneeling in front of him, rolling a condom down Clark’s cock with his mouth, no hands, how did Bruce learn that? Where did he get the condom? Did his pj’s have pockets? Did Alfred sow them in? Clark managed to wonder before Bruce released his cock to look up through his thick lashes. Bruce licked his lips in a deliberate movement, and slowly made his way up Clark’s cock, swallowing as he went. Clark had a random thought about anacondas eating snakes and then Bruce’s nose was in his pubic hair. 

Clark took a long moment to keep himself from coming right then and there, taking Bruce’s threat of never doing this again very seriously. Which was strange, since it’s not like they were a couple, but that was a thought for when he had full thoughts again. A slap on the ass startled him, and got Clark moving before he realized it. He watched as his cock withdrew from Bruce, only to push back in, meeting no resistance, diving into Bruce’s welcoming throat. 

Clark knew he was restraining himself, knew it was because he always did, couldn’t let his super strength out to play with Bruce’s human face and body so vulnerable. An unexpected, lubed finger slid into his asshole and surprise increased his speed, and Bruce took it easily. Clark found a moment to realize that there was definitely a hidden pocket in Bruce’s pj top before a second finger had him letting go, all his mental effort on watching Bruce for signs of distress. Bruce looked pleased, or as pleased as a man could while swallowing a jackhammer of a cock. 

Clark watched, mind frozen, every sense on alert to the possibility of hurting Bruce, even as his body screamed its pleasure at him. Bruce just took it, and it was Bruce down there, knowing far more than he should, daring Clark to do more, be more, as if Superman wasn’t enough, or at least not all that he could be, and Bruce pulled away. If Clark had hands he would have grabbed for the man, right, he did have hands; Bruce had told him to hold his hands still. Clark’s brain slowly returned from the zoned out bliss state Bruce had induced. 

“I couldn’t tell if you moved your arms and used super-speed to put them back up.” Bruce admitted, face thoughtful. “So we’ll have to get creative with the fucking.” 

Clark’s thought about Bruce knowing he was Superman was displaced, kicked out of his lust addled brain by Bruce, creative, fucking. Clark didn’t realize Bruce had walked away until he returned, with something purple resting over his black clad arm. It was shiny, as if already wet with lube, and Clark had no idea what the thing was. 

Bruce knew, as Bruce always seemed to know, and he expertly slipped a jellied ring down to the base of Clark’s cock. The material was flexible, so the whole thing was probably that silicon jelly that only seemed to be used in sex toys. Part of the thing curved up Clark’s perineum, but Bruce leaned in to lick and suck at Clark’s nipples. Clark forgot about the toy until the lubed tip was sliding up and into his asshole. It wasn’t thick, not nearly as thick as Bruce’s lovely cock, and it was only about four inches long. 

Bruce finally moved back, leaving wet spots all over Clark’s chest, letting Clark watch as Bruce worked a cock ring on his own cock. Clark watched Bruce’s face as Bruce impaled his own ass with the thin toy, his hard cock now resting snuggly against Clark’s. Confusion was bringing Clark’s brain back on line, but his body was still heavily invested in Bruce’s. They’d probably have to replace the carpet, he was leaking so bad. 

Clark reached for their cocks, figuring a few strokes would get them off, but Bruce caught his hand. Not to hold, but to hand over a small device, a wireless remote with the same jelled coating as the toy. With no obvious buttons, Clark gave the thing a small squeeze. Bruce moaned, but Clark still heard the buzz of electricity in the toy. Bruce gave him a leer, and squeezed his hand. The vibrating cock ring was expected, but the thing in his ass vibrated, some of it directly on his prostate. When Bruce moaned, Clark realized he’d squeezed his hand at the sensations, giving Bruce a dose of pleasure. 

He had the remote that controlled Bruce’s prostate massager, and somewhere in the back of his mind was a strange notion about ending this quickly, but that couldn’t be right. Bruce deserved all the pleasure the world could offer, and Clark was happy to help with that. His free hand wrapped around their cocks, pushing up on his and down on Bruce’s in the same movement. When he reached either crown, Clark squeezed the remote. 

Bruce let him have a few strokes to work out the timing, and then leaned back in to suck on Clark’s skin. A few love bites found their way to his nipples, but everywhere Bruce could reach was fair game. Then, he began to randomly squeeze his remote, trying to throw Clark off his schedule. Here they were, supposedly at odds, and yet working together perfectly, without a word of planning between them. Clark thought he could be forgiven for thinking they were perfect for each other, and opened his mouth to say something similar. The vibration lasted until Clark was moaning, words forgotten, but he retained enough thought to understand Bruce had done that on purpose. 

Clark allowed annoyance to drive him forward, to suck and mark Bruce’s skin like his own couldn’t be. Bruce didn’t give him much skin to play with, as Bruce was still moving around Clark’s chest. Clark noticed the oblong shape he’d sucked onto Bruce, and added two round ones near the top, so Bruce would know he’d been a dick. As if he’d sensed the shape, Bruce squeezed and held his remote, bucking up his hips as he destroyed the rhythm Clark had established. 

Clark squeezed back, moaning into Bruce’s movements, letting the feeling overtake him, finally losing himself. Nothing came of it though, not for a long few minutes, and then Clark felt a different squeeze and remembered the cock ring part of things. Bruce looked just as lost, only room in his mind for the pleasure his body was working toward. Clark watched that, for probably longer than he should, like, a lot longer, but he always lost so much of his control around Bruce. 

When he finally had enough, Clark took his hand off their cocks to pull on the jelly cock ring, expanding it enough to let Bruce come. He covered Clark in come, more than Clark expected since he knew Bruce had come twice before in the same day. In desperation, Clark did the same to his own cock ring, letting him finish on Bruce’s apparently special made and disposable pajama top. When he came down enough to see, Clark noticed Bruce still had his eyes closed, as if he’d be asleep if he was laying down. 

It was nice to know even Brucie had limits, but Clark was afraid that doing much of anything would wake him up. But, he was Superman. Pulling Bruce into a post-coital snuggle, Clark flew them to the bed, and laid them on their sides. This let him move them without moving the toy that bound them together, which would really wake Bruce up. 

Clark settled his senses on watching Bruce fall asleep and thinking about things to keep him awake. How he was going to get Mr. Mxyzptlk to fix this was one such thought. It wasn’t terrible sex, but he couldn’t let this version of Bruce free reign; humanity wasn’t ready for such an open attitude about sex. Bruce would lose his money to paternity suites, and probably be stoned as a witch in a year’s time. Though, there had to be other people who didn’t want this Bruce running around. Oh, now, there was an idea. 

Checking to make sure that Bruce really was asleep (though he still would have jabbed him with the sedatives if he’d had the forethought to move them to the bed), Clark put a hand over Bruce’s exposed ear before talking to the ceiling. 

“Hey Bat-Mite, did you enjoy the show? I hope you did, since Mr. Mxyzptlk left the world like this. I can’t share this Bruce with the world, so I’m going to have to lock him up in the Fortress. It sucks that there won’t be anymore Batman, but what can you do?” 

Having said his piece, Clark worked on easing the toy out of his ass, and then off his softened cock, without waking Bruce. Then he was free to retrieve the sedative from behind the mirror and dose Bruce, before pulling the toy out of him. Clark took the toy to the bathtub, hoping Bruce would deal with it and not Alfred. After wetting a washcloth to clean Bruce with, Clark returned to find a bowler hat resting where his own head had been a few minutes ago. He checked, just to be sure, and saw Mxyzptlk written in gold thread along the inside brim. Clark smiled as he cleaned Bruce, though locking him in the fortress still had a certain appeal. He settled beside Bruce, feeling he deserved a good nap, but managed to almost wake Bruce. 

“Clark? What’s on?” 

Clark smiled just because Bruce knew his name again. “It’s fine. I’ll wake you up in time for patrol.” 

“’kay.” Bruce muttered, asleep before he finished, but arms and legs now wrapped around Clark. 

A very smug Clark, who made a great little spoon. 

sB _Sb_ Bs


End file.
